Home is Where the Heart Is
by Werewolf's One
Summary: Something strange is going on the the Dragon Realms. Spyro finally gets to go home, but things aren't how he left them.
1. This Side of Paradise

**Summary:** Spyro finally gets to return to the Dragon Realms, but things aren't quiet on the homefront. What's happening to his beloved home, and why now?

**This story has been updated.** After five years I've re-planned the plot and edited all the chapters. There's still some smoothing out to do, but everything should be in order.  
It's set after Year of the Dragon, and will probably have some details that are AU now that the new games are out. I haven't played any of the others. I hope there's still an audience who can read and enjoy it.

**Anyway, enjoy.**

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Spyro sighed. It was getting harder and harder to find things to do, especially after beating that darned Sorceress to who knows where. Well, she was probably deteriorating at the bottom of a lake of pink lava at the moment, but that was beside the point.  
That was three years ago. Spyro was finally going back, to the Artisan Home World. He hadn't seen much of the place since leaving to Avalar, and it had copletely left his mind through his adventures in the Forgotten Worlds. The places he had visited were all pleasant, but he was sure after being away so long that Artisan would seem like a paradise.  
He glided serenely through the portal to the dragon worlds, half of him hoping everything would be just like normal, the other half desperately pleading with the dragon gods that some catastrophe had taken place and he was actually needed again. It wasn't that he wasn't missed, he knew, but being desperately needed really put the cherry on top for Spyro. Plus it prevented boredom for as long as he could keep busy kicking bad guy butt. Yet he knew he's be just as content with some R & R, and Artisan was the place to do it.

_Home sweet home..._ He thought, as he saw the portal no more than a hundred yards from him, gleaming in the sun of the high Umbra. _Wait a minute..._ He thought, staring as the portal got closer. _That's a Magic Crafter portal. I'm traveling to the Artisan homeworld..._  
Sparx gave a few buzzes of which only Spyro could comprehend, but would be translated to "This doesn't seem right, Spyro." The dragon nodded in agreement.

He didn't have a choice but to go through, the closest portal attached to the umbra he had just glided through could be miles away, and he couldn't glide forever. The umbra was a fickle mistress and you could never tell where you would end up if you veered off into the cloudy nothingness inside a portal.  
Landing proved to be a problem. The weather on the top of the Magic Crafters world seemed to have changed from chilly to blizzard while he was away, and the iridescent dragons standing around the portal didn't seem to know what to do about it. The constant wind and small flakes of icy snow had caused the usual lofty, worldly Magic Crafting Dragons to become silent and stony-faced. _'Some paradise.' _Spyro thought with both rising regret and hope for adventure.  
There were three hunched over in a small group a few yards from the portal, hovering around what looked like a pile of long stalks that Spyro recognized as the staffs from those metal plated goons that used to hang out with the wizards around the area. Above them, hanging on poles made of dead pine wood, hung an Artisan woven canvas, bright red in color.  
_'At least they're being put to good use,'_ Spyro thought, thinking of his homeworld.  
Spyro trudged towards them, his head bowed against the wind. "Hey! What's going on?" He yelled as he approached them.  
A large orange male dragon, whom Spyro knew to be Jarvis, looked up from the fire. He was tall and slightly more plump than most Magic Crafters, his double horns a pale amber-red. Jarvis motioned for Spyro to come under the canvas, which was doing very little to protect them from the wind. Spyro, despite his obvious change in age (and size), still looked rather small compared to the other three.

Jarvis sat down again, leaving room for Spyro to sit.

"Spyro! May the spirits bless you, it has been oh so long." He laughed merrily, clapping Spyro on the back.

The dragon next to him, a blue Magic Crafter named Zander, laughed along with him. "It is a shame that you had to come back in such a caliginous epoch."

Spyro would have been annoyed with the cosmic ways of their speaking, but the mention of such a 'caliginous epoch' stole his interest.

"It is very nice to be back home again, especially after so long. I really didn't mean to stay, but there were, er, certain things keeping me back. Anyway, what is this you mentioned about an epoch?" He looked over at Zander.

The big blue dragon shrugged. "Besides the ominous bad weather, nobody knows. It's a mystery beyond which we can comprehend."

Spyro gave him a questioning look.

Zander folded his arms. "Yes, well, there is a slightly larger problem. The Artisans and Dream Weavers Worlds have been cut off from the rest. The portals will no longer function. Yet there is still enough magic to power them, as far as we can see. Nothing is out of place..."

Spyro's eyes widened. "The Artisans, closed off? We can't reach even them via balloon?"

Jarvis shook his head. "We had stopped using the balloons a while after your egg search. They were proving ineffective for larger dragons to travel from world to world, so we have installed portals."

"You don't have any lying around, do you?"

"When the Balloonists left the Dragon Worlds, so did the balloons."

"The balloonists left? Wait. Stop. You need to tell me what has been happening from the beginning."

The other dragon, which Spyro did not recognize from any previous adventures, finally spoke up. He wasn't as tall as the Magic Crafters, but was wider, and a deep green. Spyro knew a fellow Artisan when he saw one.

"I can cover part of that story better than Jarvis or Zander here could." His voice was less smooth and deeper, and lacking that aggravating whimsical note. "I think this all first started in the Artisan and Dream Weaver home worlds, at least, the portal failures. By the way," the Artisan said, "My name is Cillian."

The two other dragons nodded and settled down, Spyro (after a polite nod) followed suit.

Cillian leaned against a nearby rock, his dark scales glistening in the dim firelight. "I'll try not to get too dramatic on this." He cleared his throat. "As you probably have heard, both the Artisans and Beast Makers portals have stopped working. We think it is a lack of magic; Something is removing the magic in the two worlds in a similar fashion."

At his point Spyro nodded. "I've seen something like this. Back where I had to get the eggs, that is. All the magical beings in the area left, so all of the portals stopped working."

Cillian nodded. "So we know that is what is happening. I was in Artisans when it began. Five years ago, after the time we where rudely terrorized by a certain Gnasty Gnorc, the Artisan world began to experience small but noticeable weather changes. Then the rains slowed greatly, especially during the Summer months."

Spyro shook his head. "I left for Dragon Shores because of the rain that Spring."

Cillian kept talking. "One of the last rains we had. By the time you got back from this Avalar place, the Artisan worlds had been nearly dried up."

Spyro's head snapped up, eyes on Cilan's. "What? But I was told that-"

"That the world was having some strange weather, yes. We didn't realize how serious it was. Not even the dragonflies could tell what the magic was doing. Most of the fountains had dried up, the grass a bit dry, the sun hotter and brighter, but besides that everything seemed normal. The only other noticeable event to signal a possible drought was that the tide line had greatly receded in Stone Hill. And nobody took notice of that, the beach being so small. By the time it got to the point that we noticed something was really wrong, it was too late to do anything. The portals began to shut down, and that was the last straw for the balloonists. They left after that. We built our portals between homeworlds, but we still could not reach the Artisans. It was simply too far to fly. We tried to evacuate as many as possible, but it was too late by the time we started. There ae still many trapped with nowhere to go.  
"At the same time, it seems the Dream Weavers were having similar problems. It became cloudy and shadowy all over their realm, even past the main worlds and portals, so even those below, here in Magic Crafters, could notice. That's what is producing the storm. If it is this cold here, we can only assume that up in the Dream Weavers it is freezing. We aren't sure how long us dragons can make it, even being warm-blooded like we are.  
But those two worlds aren't the only ones suffering. You already know about the blizzard here, it's rather obvious. But down in the Beast Makers World, the lowest in altitude of all the dragon worlds, the swamp has grown immensely. Most of the area is unreachable now, especially for the Beast Makers themselves. Some of those big dragons step on the ground and they go straight down into the mug. Some portals have sunk into the ground. Tree Tops has completely disappeared, and there isn't enough magic to raise it again."

"Good riddance," Spyro muttered, but Jarvis gave the young dragon a look and he returned to listening.

"There are floods, too. Misty Bog is completely underwater according to our last report. We have had to evacuate most of the Beast Makers, but, due to their extra large size, space has been cramped since the swamp became waterlogged. The ones we could get out in time are in Peace Keepers right now. Everyone, actually, has been moving to Peace Keepers for safety. But that's the big question. 'What about Peace Keepers'? The place has suffered no damage whatsoever. No weather changes, no portal outages: In fact, the portals have been in better condition than they ever have been, and the non-existent plant life has become, well, existent. Things started growing. Not everywhere, and not very large. A few gangly weeds by the good lakes is all, but the green is unexpected. None of us have been to the Peace Keepers in days, so we don't know how it is going. That pretty much sums it up."

Later that night, Spyro was in deep thought. The Artisan World had been dried up? His home had become victim to a freak drought, that not even the magic of dragons could prevent. _Dragons_. Nothing had happened like that in the history of the Dragon Worlds, as far as he knew. And he knew a lot. He curled up in a tighter ball, trying to shield himself from the wind. It had long since stopped snowing, fortunately, but it didn't get much warmer.  
The group had decided that Spyro would travel to Peace Keepers via portal the next morning, accompanied by his dragonfly, Sparx, and an escort. Spyro wasn't sure why he needed an escort, but Jarvis had assured him that the dragon in question was being sent in for security. Turns out that, during the evening of their talk, some small Gnorcs that had (presumably) survived the destruction of Gnasty had turned up in the Peace Keeper homeworld and actually injured a dragon. Spyro couldn't imagine how that could happen, but Jarvis kept talking and he soon forgot about the situation.  
A faerie was also going to be accompanying Spyro. Her name was Molli, and was heading for Beast Makers. Only fairies could travel around the swamp. Molli was to make a pit stop in Peace Makers to pick up some 'equipment', though Spyro very much doubted that. The only equipment fairies needed were wands, if anything. He didn't press the subject, however. You didn't want to mess with fairies.

By the time breakfast came, it was clear that the wind would not let up for the rest of the day. "It's getting worse..." Commented Jarvis as he lay out a small pile of fruit and some bread. "It used to storm only at night, when we were asleep. Now it continues on during the day, ever tormenting us."

Spyro helped himself to an apple. "But it's bright out, at least on Magic Crafter standards. You can still see everything."

"Yes, but flying is near impossible, if the wind doesn't get you, the cold will."Spyro nodded, taking a bite of his apple. This proved difficult. It was near frozen from the cold. He wrangled with it for a moment but gave up before his teeth broke.  
"Sorry about that," Jarvis apologized. "It's been hard to get food up here, and any food we do receive freezes."  
"That's fine." Spyro put down the apple and reached for a small loaf of bread. It was solid as well, but at least he could break off a few bites.

Breakfast continued without much talk; There was hardly anything to say, most things being covered the night before. Spyro consulted with Sparx about the other dragonflies; why they weren't aware of the magic leak and if they couldn't do anything about it. Sparx wasn't much of a help; he had only seen other dragonflies at the Speedways and Flights. He could only say that, from what he heard from those sources, they _had_ sensed something in their healing powers, but it hadn't been strange. Sometimes, when the dragonflies would try and heal, the affected area would heal oddly, or leave scars that should have been covered up, but it did happen occasionally on any regular day so they had dismissed it as nothing important.

"We should have been more aware, it was happening more and more in the Dream Weavers and Artisans, but not enough to concern any of us." Sparx thought to himself, then buzzed again. "That might mean I am unable to heal you now without making it worse. The magic in the dragon worlds is too far off. If you get yourself hurt, I can't tell what will happen."

Spyro nodded understandingly. "We'll just have to be more careful, that's all. Come on, we should make sure we have everything ready. Not that we have much to bring anyway."

Jarvis had figured that all Spyro would need to go to the Peace Keepers World would fit into a single side poncho. It was a beautifully woven Artisan poncho (a dark green fabric stiched with reds and whites in diamond patterns around the seams), that fit nicely over Spyro's back, so it wouldn't hang in front of him. In it, Spyro threw a few fruits and some bread from breakfast, a healing salve in case something happened and Sparx couldn't help, and a long rope. The three years he had been gone, Spyro complained, he had learned to fly short distances, but Zander insisted that he take it. The cliffs in the Peace Keepers, he said, were more than a short flying distance up or down. Spyro finally gave in. For an extra measure, Jarvis gave Spyro one of the bright red Artisan tarps in case he ran into bad weather.

"Whatever you say, Jarv." Spyro said skeptically, but the orange dragon just gave him a smile.

"We just want our hero to be safe."

"I can take care of my self."

"How many times did you pass out on your last 'adventure'?"

"Point taken." Spyro mumbled, mentally cursing how he had gone from thirty one saving orbs to three in a single world, specifically, the world called 'Cloud Nine'. "Bloody cliffs..." He muttered, taking his poncho bag and swinging it over his shoulder.

"Time to go, Sparx." Spyro said only half an hour later. There were more good-byes than packing in the last thirty minutes, and Spyro wasn't the mushy farewell type. They had all assembled at the portal, Molli and the large orange dragon (who Spyro recognized as Titan, a native Peace Keeper) who would travel with Spyro to the Peace Keepers homeworld. They would split up after, Spyro headed for Cliff Town and Titan for Dry Canyon. Up on two legs, he headed for the portal to Peace Keepers.

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	2. The Enemy Within

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There were two things that bothered Spyro when he flew out of the umbra and touched down in Peace Keepers.  
The first was the location. His whole life, the balloon would always drop off the passengers at the small dock at Peace Keepers, and then they would go through the castle 'entryway' and come into the homeworld. The new portal, used to go from homeworld to homeworld, opened up next to one of the old antique canons Spyro recognized from his Gnorc fighting days. The first few moments Spyro had no idea where he was.  
The second was the foliage. Never before in all his years had Spyro seen such a drastic change in the habitat. Where once there was just sand, dirt, and huge deposits of rock, now lay mounds and mounds of dark dirt contrasting with the dull orange and yellow of the sandstone formations. Dotting the new soil was small green growths, weeds, patches of grass, and the occasional flower. The purple-black goop he had come to know was flowing freely like water, and had become translucent. Spyro stood, mystified.

He was quick to get oriented, though, as Molli and Titan had already started off. The large dragon turned back.

"Did you need any help there, Spyro?"

"No, I'm good, thanks anyway." Spyro gave him a flash of a smile. "I remember where Cliff Town is. That's the easiest one to find."

"I thought you would remember. Keep your goal in mind and don't let anything distract you."

Spyro laughed inwardly; dragons were known for their good advice, if not for their take-action attitudes. The big orange dragon turned away, heading for the rift that sheltered the Dry Canyon portal. "Take care of yourself, Spyro."

Spyro gave a wave as he watched Titan lumber away. It wasn't until after he was gone, and the faerie long flown off, Spyro shook his head and expressed his initial confusion.

"Man, Sparx, I dunno how much more of this I can take." He kicked at a weed growing from the cracks of a rock. "You think all the worlds are gonna be this different?"

Sparx looked at Spyro with empathy. His voice buzzed out his opinions. "BzzztBzzzt. bzbzbzzbzz?"

Spyro nodded. "Yeah, if there is anything wrong, it's up to us to fix it. We had better quit lollygagging. Cliff Town is this way."

Spyro and Sparx made their way to the portal, ever observing the metamorphosized scenery.

The glide to Cliff Town was much more pleasant than Spyro remembered, a cool breeze blowing from the side, and the sun partially covered by creamy clouds. Once he landed, the shock that had taken him when he first came to Peace Keepers returned, ten times stronger.

The barren land beyond the river had been transformed into a huge grassy plain, stretching far further than he or Sparx could see. But the main shock came no from the grass, but from the town carved from the cliffs in front of him. Atop each small shelter a huge tree grew, the roots flowing over the sides. Every wall was coated with vines growing down towards the goo river. Around the base of every wall leafy shrubs and miniature trees thrived. All of it seemed to originate from above the town, atop the vast cliff shadowing the entire area. Huge vines as thick as trees poured over the cliff, partially hiding the town in slender greenery.

Spyro had to mentally kick himself to get going. He remembered the dragons that he had saved from this area, three of them. As he left the entryway large castle-like structure where the portal had left him, a tall, thin, grey-brown dragon who looked very familiar to Spyro came from around a clump of sharp-looking bushes. The dragon, who would have normally blended in perfectly with the stone of the town, now stood out against the lush green of the plants. He looked annoyed at first, but once he spotted Spyro relief and gratitude washed over his features. "Spyro!" The dragon rushed over the bridge to them. "Spyro, you finally made it. We've been waiting ages. Thank goodness."

Spyro looked around his surroundings again. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I missed my destination a few stops back."

The other dragon nodded in understanding. "We've been working on it, but it seems the more we try to stop all this plant stuff the more it comes." He shook his head. "Now where are my manners? I'm Marco, the one you saved from Point S."

"Point S?" Spyro was unaware of the location.

"Yeah, they named the point after you and Sparx. I know, I know, it should have been M, for Marco. I mean, I was the one you saved, right? If it hadn't been for me-"

"Okay, okay, I get the point." Spyro smiled. Same Marco he remembered. "Where is everyone else?"

"They're up at the Town Centre. Right now they are in a conclave, but you're the main topic of discussion, so you'd be okay to interrupt."

Spyro nodded, recognizing the word for meeting in the Old Dragon tongue despite how he hadn't heard or spoken it in years. Marco led him to the top of the town, babbling about the changes and temperature and foliage and how his home had changed and how the vines had slowly crept down the cliff edge, which had all resurrected old superstitions with some of the other dragons who had since come to Cliff Town and caused them to flee the area. They stepped into the shadow of the cliff, the dark shade providing a drastic change in temperature.

The young dragon prepared himself for a hike up the side of the cliff. Marco led him around a corner at the base of the town. To his surprise, the whirlwind still functioned to transport them to the top. Where there was once a soft twinkle and sparkle, the wind spinning about was a shimmering white, blowing much fiercer than Spyro remembered. Marco gestured and, hesitantly, Spyro stepped through the blanket of air. Inside the column the air was almost still, but after a few seconds he felt a strange lift between his feet. He soon felt himself rising straight up, no spinning at all. He flew upwards, barely grabbing on to the edge of the stone before being launched to the sky. Sparx flitted behind as always, never phased by rough weather. Soon after Marco came up, spreading his thin wings at the last second and giving one stroke, sending him upwards and landing gently on the stone a few yards from the whirlwind. He looked at Spyro. "Takes some practice, you'll get it soon enough."  
They continued walking, the distance now much shorter.  
"What made the whirlwinds change? These are much nicer than before, as much as I hate to say it."

"I know what you mean. But I think I'll let the council explain that."

"Council?"

"Yeah, this place has modified into a sort of headquarters. There have been some really weird things going on, Spyro. Somebody needs to check it out."

"Why aren't you in the council?" Sparx's voice piped up over the soft whine of the whirlwind.

"It's hard to explain. Since you left, and all this stuff happened, we needed somebody to guide all of us and to help re-group and re-build. Some of the more, uh, motivated dragons decided to meet up and discuss and give orders. Council stuff. In through here."

Marco gestured to what Spyro first thought was a wall covered in vines. He looked forward, puzzled, but soon saw that the vines covered not a wall but a doorway stretching the several feet of the building. From inside a soft white light glowed. He turned to Marco, who stood a few feet away and didn't look like he was coming any further. "You aren't going in?"

"I've got to guard the in-spot, incase anyone else comes. If I wanted to join in the meeting they would have let me in before it started. Good luck, Spyro." He nodded, then turned and, with a leap, dove off the edge of the cliff and glided with unexpected grace to the grassy ground below.  
Spyro walked up to the vines and, in one swift motion, pulled back the living curtain.

Inside the large circular room three other dragons, much taller than him and larger than Marco, stood or sat along the wall, arranged around a pit of burning coals. The heat from the pit was invigorating and Spyro felt alert and rejuvenated, ready for anything. At first nobody moved, but the dragon to Spyro's right stood from his lounging position on all fours and greeted Spyro, his lengthy forelimbs outstretched and his claws pointed up in a gesture of friendship. Spyro knew the vibrant pink and purple dragon to be Halvor, a dragon possessing one of the grandest pairs of horns that didn't belong to a Beast Maker. "Spyro!" He bellowed, letting himself land heavily back on his front legs. "What a pleasure to see you again after so long. You've been growing while you were away."

Spyro nodded and smiled, replicating the gesture with his own much smaller hands. "You too, Halvor. I probably won't reach your height any time soon."

"You came just in time, Spyro. We were just coming to you in our discussion." He nodded to the other two dragons. "This is Enzo, he thought of the idea for our regular Conclave." Spyro nodded at the greyish pink dragon leaning casually against the wall, his memory not failing to remember another he had saved from crystal so long ago. Enzo bobbed his head and raised his claws in greeting.

"And this is Vulric. He came from Beast Makers several months ago." The most massive of the dragons in the (thankfully quite large) room nodded his head, ivory horns glistening in the light. The rest of his body was a deep red, his belly fading to a burnt orange color. Spyro nodded back.

Halvor continued. "Before you came we only went over our own domestic problems, where to house those coming from other worlds and what we would do if we ran out of room. This Conclave is open to all comments and opinions, Spyro, so just speak up if you have any input. We'll try to answer any questions you have as well." He looked expectantly at Spyro, who wondered why they even bothered to call it a conclave with the total lack of secrecy going on. He wasn't complaining, though.

Spyro took advantage of the situation to find out everything he could of the changes specific to the Peace Keepers. As Halvor explained, with a few comments from Enzo and Vulric, the incredibly fertile soil that he had seen when he first arrived came from beneath the rocks, where it must have been since the time before Peace Keepers was a desert. The incredible amount of magic, the council had presumed, was responsible for pushing up the soil and keeping the various plant seeds alive when carried on the wind. The actual water that was mixing in the goo also originated beneath the ground, a spring which must have burst from magic right below the lake of slime. This only egged on the growth of a number of plants non-native to Peace Keepers or any of the surrounding worlds. As Spyro already understood every object had its own well of magic, but when excess magic had nowhere to do objects would undergo unnatural changes. The dragons themselves gave off magic, radiated it from their bodies in small doses and conducted already exciting bodies of magic, but with the extra charge they themselves were just adding to the pollution.

Spyro next questioned them about the structure of the council. Vulric took the liberty of explaining that any dragon could attend the Conclave, but it was required that at least two different races of dragon would be present to help spread any word of changes or setbacks among the few worlds which remained open. As Spyro had guessed, any communication with other worlds took much longer than normal. They still had kinks in the portal plan and some would occasionally have to fly between worlds, taking days to get news back and forth. Any surviving dragons in Beast Keepers could relay information through the faeries, but dragons in the Artisans and Dream Weavers had lost all contact long ago.

The small purple dragon nodded at the familiar information. He pondered, giving a few moments of silence for all to go over their thoughts. "So how have you found out so much information on what is happening?"  
Enzo looked at the others with an uneasy expression. This made Spyro feel uneasy himself.

"Well, you know that magic has been collecting in unusual amounts here. Us dragons are natural conduits for magic and so we're pretty sensitive to its flow. But recently there has been some... events happening. Small things, mostly, but some dragons have reported magical occurrences that..." He trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Vulric took over. "There have been instances where magic has done the bidding of dragons."

Spyro stared, aghast.

"Nothing like wizards, I assure you. But the thought is concerning. If dragons continue to use magic as a tool, the current situation could easily get out of hand."

"What exactly has happened?" Spyro's voice sounded, to him, shrill and shaky. He cleared his throat and mentally steadied himself. _'Keep calm Spyro.'_

Enzo put a claw in the pit in an absentminded manner and fiddled with the embers. "Flashes of insight when we are frustrated and need information. Fruits flinging themselves from bushes into our outstretched claws. Views of other areas when we stare into the lake. Various small and apparently unrelated incidents. No dragon has yet experienced it more than once. But we all feel it when it happens." He looked down and sighed.

Spyro did indeed know the feeling. Whether it was the simple-minded magicians all those years ago in Magic Crafters, Ripto's flashy staff, or the Sorceress' and Bianca's very presence, magic casting was an obvious feeling. For Spyro it felt like a caged animal, pitiful and under pressure, physically forced to do what it didn't want to. Other dragons described it in different ways; depending on the dragon's disposition, it was like commanding the wind or beating a hatchling. One thing everyone would agree on that it wasn't supposed to be done. Magic was a part of nature. It occurred at its own pace and flowed through dragons like air through a mountain forest. If any magic was being cast, dragons nearby could feel it like it was being pulled out of them. Only faeries had mastered the skill of using magic without forcing it. All they did was re-channel the magic they wanted and pointed it in the right direction. Add some energy of their own to spark the reaction, and they have successful casting. Fortunately there was a lot of healing, blooming, and bursting magic just floating around to put to use.

"Only the dragons controlling it don't feel the magic being cast, but they do feel the unease later. Fortunately it hasn't happened many times, but we've no idea why it happens. Our only idea is the excess magic present. But that is all we have."  
Spyro nodded. He had learned some of these things when he was on the other side of the Dragon Worlds, where he had taken out the Sorceress and Bianca… Well, almost Bianca. But he had always thought that magic could only be controlled if you had immoral reasoning, if you wanted it for the wrong causes, or did things strong enough to force it and change it. He had always assumed it was something meant to be left alone and let it deal with nature in its own way. But now, his kin had done what the Sorceress had done with just their thoughts. And how would anyone stop it? The problem wasn't some bad guy or monster, it was dragons themselves, and he couldn't fight his way out of this one. He was uneasy about this.

His company seemed to feel roughly the same way. Wordlessly they all began moving for the door. Spyro and Sparx were the first out, and he paused and looked over the ledge. The feel of the cool air was unwelcome after the comfortably heated room, but Spyro was already adjusting to the change. He was about to mention the climate change of Cliff Town to Enzo and Halvor when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.  
He stopped suddenly, staring in wonder down at the base of the cliff. Spyro looked down, his hairless brow furrowed.

"What in this world…"

Marco, way down by the first bridge, had been joined by two other dragons, almost Spyro's size, both up on two legs. One was the deepest blue Spyro had ever seen, the other a pale pastel green.  
But it wasn't the dragons that had taken the breath out of every member of the council, but the ten or so figures they were trying to fend off.  
Even the years that had gone by hadn't eased the images and memories out of Spyro's mind.

They were fighting Gnorcs.

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	3. And the Children Shall Lead

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Spyro didn't waste time; at full charge he bolted off the high ledge and clattered to the rooftops below. He made it to the bottom within seconds, taking out two gnorcs in an instant. He didn't notice the one behind him and got a good whack in the side for his troubles. He rolled but landed on all fours, facing the ugly yellow brute and blasting an impressive mouthful of fire in his direction in an impressive counterattack. The gnorc flew back, burning up in an instant.

The little dragon whirled, this time ready for the worst. But he was surprised to see he wasn't much needed; Marco had grabbed one gnorc in each hand and flown upward as high as he could, higher than Point S, then let the screaming beast go to drop to its doom. The two younger dragons were holding their own as well. The blue one, a male by the length of his horns, had three gnorcs surrounding him, but in the next second he had whirled at the left-most one, taking it out with a strong foot the face. He landed on two legs and cart-wheeled through the air, spinning and kicking the second gnorc in the stomach and flinging it into the third. They disappeared in a puff.

The pale green dragon was taking longer to vanquish her foes. Spyro recognized her as a female instantly; not only was she smaller and slimmer than her blue clutchmate but her actions were less flashy and she made considerably less physical contact with her opponents. He watched as she darted between the two gnorcs she was engaging, dodging their lances and ignoring their tormenting croaks. She didn't quite have the force to knock them out in one blow, Spyro noted, as she grabbed one's arm in her teeth and hurled it to the ground. But then she snatched the lance from its grubby hands and in one quick motion ran it through, whirling around to slice through the second one. They too puffed away, and Spyro went to touch the gems left behind by his own opponents, vanquishing them to the dragon vaults. It was a nice change to have his battles finished in a matter of seconds, unlike the last several foes he had faced in the Forgotten Worlds.

Looking back to his companions he saw them collect the gems as he had. The two youth had satisfied grins on their faces and gave each other a congratulatory head flick. The mature dragons greeted Marco, then began walking over the bridge to the castle.

They all assembled in the large bastion furthest from the cliff, making full use of the pleasant sun shining through the large door.

"So whom do we owe for the pleasure of your presence, hatchlings?" Enzo, Vulric and Halvor were clearly taken by the young female. Spyro couldn't blame them; he could barely take his eyes off of her himself. It had been generations since the dragons had been blessed with females in their clutches and after a lifetime (at least for Spyro) without, the opposite gender seemed like a blessing.

"We were only sent to see if you had finished the Conclave. Someone of Vulric's kin was asking for him from Doctor Shemp." The male was the one who answered. From the tone of his voice Spyro figured he didn't much enjoy the attention his female friend was getting.

Vulric nodded. "My father no doubt." Spyro thought of how few elderly dragons still lived in the dragon worlds and understood why he would need attending to. Without another word Vulric turned back for the cliff. Being a Beast Maker, his wings weren't suited for flying, so he's walk and take the whirlwinds up to the Golden Whirlwind back to Peace Keepers.

"Now then," Enzo brought the attention back to their slightly smaller group. "I do not think you have been introduced, Spyro. Or maybe you remember..."

Spyro looked back at the two hatchlings. He figured he should stop referring to them as hatchlings, since they were fairly grown, even standing on two legs. Probably earlier than he had learned at any rate. Though they were still smaller than him, they made Spyro realize how long he had been away from home.

"I'm Shemp." The girl dragon told him, holding out her claws like Halvor had done earlier.

Spyro blinked. "Like the Witch Doctor?" He cocked his head.

She nodded once. "The one who you got rid of some years ago, yeah."

Wasn't that something? Newborn dragons spoke their own names as soon as they were out of the shell, so nobody could be questioned as to the reasons. If one felt their name should be something, that's what it was. Nobody had questioned his name choice and it had certainly been different from the previous generation's tastes. Then again, he had been an oddball early hatchling

The male dragon stepped forward, reminding everyone that he was still there, and held his claws up. "I'm called Bruce."

Spyro tilted his head. "Nice to meet you Shemp, Bruce. You two have really grown up since I last saw you." Okay, now he really felt old.

Halvor gave a deep booming _hmmph_. "I had forgotten you were the one who sent us our hatchlings from the Forgotten Worlds, Spyro. Do you enjoy having dragons younger than you running about?" Endo gave a small laugh.

Having somebody else around who didn't speak as an elder dragon did was a nice change, too, but Spyro didn't say so. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Halvor changed the subject. "Endo and myself have more business to attend to, young ones. We'll be taking our leave now." He turned and moved for the exit.

Endo nodded. "If we are needed we will likely be in Dry Canyon with most of the refugees. Don't run into trouble- not that you ever run in to trouble, eh Spyro?" He winked at the purple dragon before departing after Halvor.

Spyro gave a nod, a bit taken back at their speedy and a bit unexpected exit. The two dragons left the structure and spread their massive wings, soaring up the cliff where they undoubtedly would meet up with Vulric halfway up. He turned back to the young dragons.

They stared at him expectantly and Spyro thought he saw a glimmer of admiration. Was he really well known here in the Dragon Realms? "So, you guys hatched when all this started?" He started walking to the exit, shifting to all fours now that the older dragons were gone. Shemp and Bruce followed suit eagerly, relieved to give their haunches a break. They all walked towards the small sunny field right outside the castle; basking in the sun sounded like a good idea.

"Yeah," Bruce said eagerly, "We've had to deal with these problems as long as we remember."

"Sometimes it's hard to see what the issue is." Shemp chimed in. "Not to be disrespectful..." She added quickly. "Only when somebody unintentionally casts magic do we really feel bad about the situation."

"Have all the hatchlings been trained in fighting like you two?"

"Um, mostly." Bruce cocked his head thoughtfully. "We two play a lot, and it comes in handy. Everyone knows how to get rid of Gnorcs if that's what you mean."

"So the whole situation isn't entirely out of control." Spyro mused, more to himself than the two younglings. He lowered himself to the ground, stretching out his front legs and tucking his rear two underneath him. "From what I've heard all the dragons have been taking action. You all know roughly what you're up against, if not what's causing it."

Bruce and Shemp laid down as well, Bruce with all of his shimmery blue legs stretched out, Shemp tucking her limbs beneath her. Sparx laughed and buzzed in Spyro's ear. "You all look like cats!" He said. Spyro didn't see how they looked anything like his friend Hunter, but didn't ask him to elaborate.

"But now you can save us!" Shemp said with excitement. "You've dealt with bad guys before, you can fix this up in no time!" Bruce nodded in agreement.

Spyro was amused that they looked to him automatically as their savior. He was used to this; ever since he volunteered himself for heroism and beat up Gnasty Gnorc he'd played the hero. He just hoped he could get to the bottom of this, since he really had no idea what could be causing it. "Well what do you guys think is happening?"

They blinked and looked blankly ahead, not having been asked that before, Spyro supposed. It took them a minute to answer.

"Maybe it's a natural disaster like tornadoes and tsunamis?" Shemp suggested. "Or maybe we've done something that knocked it off and we didn't notice, and it just needs to be reversed."

"Or maybe somebody did it on purpose." Bruce said. Spyro and Shemp looked at him curiously. "Maybe there's some baddy out there who wants to destroy the worlds."

Spyro had thought of this, but the situation didn't add up. "If they had wanted to destroy the Dragon Realms they aren't doing a good job of Peace Keepers..." Spyro noted. "They are doing a fantastic job of the other worlds, yet I'd think there would be more effective ways of destroying us. Maybe it was an accident, or something just happened randomly, sort of like Shemp said." None of it was ringing true with Spyro, but he didn't say so in front of the others. He appreciated their feedback and truly enjoyed having younger dragons to bounce ideas off of.

Shemp nodded. "Yeah, nothing but the weather has really changed. Nobody's gotten hurt. Nobody has gone missing, we just can't contact the Artisans, Beast Makers or Dream Weavers."

"What if they planned that, though? What if it's all just leading up to something really bad?"

"It's always right to be prepared, of course. We have to keep in mind Bruce's idea, incase it turns out to be an enemy after all. We have to be prepared for anything since we don't know what's doing on." Spyro felt wise dealing out this advice. He decided he liked having a bunch of youngsters running about and wondered if the adult dragons felt like this around him. "I'm thinking we're still missing some important bit of information. We're overlooking something. I just can't think of where else to look. Where has all this stuff been happening? I mean, where is it strongest?"

Bruce replied. "Here there's the most plant growth, for sure. All the vines coming from up on the cliff. But most of the weird stuff happens in the main world, around the portal to here."

"Well, let's go check it out then!" Spyro got up, stretching his body out, front legs first then taking a few steps and stretching out his rear legs one at a time. He felt thoroughly rested even from those few minutes sitting and talking.

Their party went to the whirlwind and was up the cliff face in no time. Bruce and Shemp went first, gliding into the golden whirl of sparkles and disappearing into the atmos. Spyro gave one last look at the spread of vines creeping from high above his head. He didn't feel alone; he supposed it was just the plants that made him sense the presence of something else. He wondered if there was another dragon on watch in Cliff Town.

But Sparx was buzzing in his ear to hurry up, and he lifted himself into the gold home whirlwind and was launched back to Peace Keepers.

As soon as Spyro landed he spotted the commotion. Near two of the antique canons left behind by the Gnorcs there was a small crowd of dragons and even a couple of faeries. They all huddled close around something in the middle of the group. Shemp and Bruce were already half there, back on two legs again, and had just stopped when they noticed him come out of the portal. Spyro shifted to bipedal and hurried over with them.

Spyro found himself having to squirm underneath the massive dragons, unable to push past or get their full attention. Shemp and Bruce did the same, even better at weaving past with their small frames.

Spyro was about to resort to his flame breath when he heard a familiar voice in the ruckus.

"Ow ow OW don't touch it!"

"Marco?" Spyro called through the din.

"Oh hey ow stop it let Spyro through, let Spyro through!"

A couple dragons moved out of the way and Spyro could fully analyze the scene. A Peace Keeper and a Beast Maker were holding down the lithe form of Marco, who was struggling in vain against their bulk. At first Spyro was only confused but then he saw the blood.

Marco was smeared with blood over his chest and face, a huge gash on his chest and neck bled openly, and under his right horn there was a deep cut that ran to the back of his head. For a scary moment Spyro thought the other dragons had attacked him, but he realized they were trying to heal him with salves and he was finding the ordeal rather uncomfortable. But why didn't they have a dragonfly heal him?

Spyro looked through the crowd and noted several dragonflies, but they were looking on with worried and scared expressions. "What's going on?"

Marco was using his feet to hold off the Peace Keeper dragon, a large purple and blue spotted one named Ragnar who Spyro had saved from Ice Cavern. Ragnar had Marco's blood splattered on his chest and forelegs. The purple dragon looked at Spyro and backed away from the kicking injured dragon. "He showed up like this from Dry Canyon. He was supposed to be standing watch in Cliff Town but-"

"BUT I was following a lead!" Marco cut in, batting away the Beast Maker, Claude, who was trying to smear a pinkish, flesh colored cream into Marco's wounds. He was just short of sitting on the poor beast to keep him still. "Th-there was a- a thing! Some thing was running off out of Cliff Town! I had to follow it, what if it's the reason for all the weird stuff that's been happening!" He tried to sit up but instantly fell back, holding his arms over his chest and grimacing the way only a dragon could, eyes closed and teeth bared, a small burst of flame licking between his tightened jaws. Claude and Ragnar jumped onto him again, Claude brandishing a clawful of salve. "I wasn't gonna hurt it I swear! OOF." Claude had pulled Marco's head back to better apply the ointment to the cut on his neck. "It used magic! It used magic!"

Spyro didn't know what to think about that. He felt helpless watching them deal with Marco's wounds, and distracted by the blood that was getting everywhere. He hadn't ever seen blood before; sure he'd nicked himself on sharp edges, but there was never more than a small glance before Sparx had healed it up. He thought many of the other dragons felt the same way; not many were talking and none had offered any more help. Shemp and Bruce had come up behind Spyro and just stared, probably not sure what they were looking at. "Why don't the dragonflies heal him?" He asked.

Claude answered. "They tried, it just splattered blood everywhere. They're too afraid to try again. We're all afraid..." He trailed off, his brown furrowed. He really was scared.

Spyro knelt by Marco's head. "What exactly did you see?"

Marco shook his head. "I don't know, it was small, dark, like a thief. But it wasn't a thief, it- ow, ow! It wasn't a thief! If was covered in black clothes and had blue, and it wasn't as fast. And it... it was using magic. I felt it before I saw it. I had to go see what was going on. Ah!" Blood was running into his eyes, turning the whites red. Spyro felt like gagging, but kept himself calm. "I didn't see its face, just that black and blue cloth. After we went to... to Cliff Town, he knew he couldn't loose me, so... so he used magic... man did he use magic..."

Spyro nodded, resting his hand on Marco's nose in a motion of comfort. Marco sighed, accepting the motion. He was growing tired, his eyes heavily lidded.

Claude and Ragnar had almost finished packing the ointment onto and into the gashes. They spread some over the cut on top of his head, stopping the bleeding.

Spyro got up. "I need to go after it then." Nobody opposed him; they had likely hoped he would do something where they couldn't.

Bruce and Shemp were immediately at his side. "We'll join you."

Another two dragons stepped out from the crowd. Two more hatchlings. One was an earthy brown with red horns, broad shoulders and a light belly. The other was a pale grey with blue horns, lean and long, taller than his brown companion. Peace Keepers and Magic Crafters, respectively, if Spyro had to guess. "We'll come, too." The brown one said in a determined voice. The rest of the dragons just looked on, observing.

Spyro felt strange having so many accompany him, but the support he was receiving ignited something in him that he'd never felt before. Always he'd had to fight alone, and he was so filled with gratitude that he could not turn them away. He nodded, extending his claws in greeting. "I'm Spyro."

They bobbed their heads in acknowledgement and lifted their claws, imitating his gesture. The red one spoke up first. "My name is Evie." She said.

The Magic Crafter made the same actions. "I'm Buddy." A male. His front fangs protruded from his mouth even when it was closed, lending him a fierce appearance for a gentle Magic Crafter.

Spyro looked over his makeshift troop, eyes lingering over Evie and Shemp. He still felt overjoyed at the prospect of female dragons once again making an appearance in the Dragon Worlds and looked forward to the coming decades with them, hopefully to be trouble free years. But they had to solve this problem first. He nodded in approval at the four young dragons facing him, then led them from the crowd. He turned back momentarily.

"Is anyone else in Cliff Town?" He asked to anyone who knew.

Ragnar nodded. "Titan, Gunnar, Conan... Roscoe maybe." He called back.

Spyro nodded. "Alright, let's get going."

He led his group to the Cliff Town portal, wondering what sort of trouble they would find, and hoping he wasn't leading them straight to danger.

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	4. The Man Trap

**Chapter outlines are your friend. :0)**

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Spyro spread his wings and landed softly in the familiar plateau. He felt at ease; he had been expecting a small army or a magic force field, or some massive beast that couldn't just be charged but had him doing complicated puzzles to defeat it. Instead he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sparx was the first to appear next to him, and he was soon followed by the four hatchlings. It felt odd, having other dragons to follow him into an adventure. Watching as they glided through the portal one by one, eyes lingering on the two females, Spyro felt a wave of responsibility sweep over him. It was his job not just to lead these young ones, but protect them if push came to shove.

"So where should we start?" Shemp wondered aloud.

Spyro shrugged sheepishly. He hadn't thought to ask Marco where the attack occurred. "I think the village is a good idea," he speculated, "whatever it was could be hiding there. We have to be careful, though."

They agreed without question. The six of them moved over the bridge and towards the strange tangle of green that covered the small clay huts. They stayed close, each within an arm's length from another, preventing the group from being separated in case of an ambush.

"BzzBzzz bzzbzzz BzzBzbz," said Sparx quietly as they approached the first hut. The vines covering the clay were dusty but not too thick, and Spyro used his claws to cut and rip them away.

"I dunno buddy. Something that could cause a big enough disturbance, but small enough to want to flee after hurting a dragon. And not a big dragon, at that." He thought of Marco's slight frame and felt more sure that the five of them could handle whatever was going on.

The others began cutting away vines from nearby huts, searching for entrances. They moved in a line, moving from hut to hut in a steady sweep that left no room for an enemy to sneak back to the portal. The muscled red-brown dragonling, Evie, was doing a great job of tearing up foliage, but she was already panting, and a thin layer of sweat was glistening over her scales.

"You okay there?" Spyro asked after poking his head into a hut. Nothing of interest, only dirt and rocks.

Evie looked over as she pulled some plant material from a window. "I'm fine, Spyro" she said in her incredibly thick Beast Maker accent, "I just miss my swamp. I hope we can fix this whole mess soon."

"Oh, trust me, once I find whatever is responsible for this catastrophe-"

"Hey! Look!"

Spyro stopped his work on the doorway of hit hut and looked over to the far side of the plateau, where Shemp's tail could be seen waving wildly from a window. Bruce was already on the scene, poking his head in as the waving green tail disappeared into the viney hut. Spyro was there in a second, squeezing in next to Bruce to get a good view. "What is it?"

Inside the hut was dark and dusty, but unlike the others the vines had invaded the interior. They twisted together in a braid-like patter and wound down through a hole that took up almost all of the floor space. Shemp was peering into the crevice, while grasping something in her claws. "It's just darkness," she noted in awe. "Instant darkness." She reached out with her free hand to touch the twist of vines; they were tough and unyielding, and Spyro didn't see them budge one bit under her claws.

"What did you find?" He called to her, feeling uneasy about being so near to the massive hole. Who knew what could be lurking there? Sparx's nervous buzzes echoed his feelings.

Shemp turned around and plodded to the window, the doorway being still sealed with vines. Spyro winced inwardly as she turned her back to the hole and on the possible danger of whatever it was hiding. He'd have to teach these younglings how to function in a time of real crisis; for now he just watched the hole suspiciously, ready to lead past Bruce through the small window incase anything should emerge.

No vicious rhynocs or chortling gnorcs came up, however, and Shemp was soon pulled back through the window. She landed with a thud on her stomach, to chuckles from Bruce. The blue dragon helped his comrade up from the ground and dusted her off as she turned a shiny object over in her hands.

"I saw something shiny in the hut, that's why I went in. I didn't notice the hole until my eyes adjusted to the light." She held out her treasure to Spyro.

He was going to ask her what she meant about her eyes adjusting, but once he saw the object he stopped. His memory flashed back, several years into his past. Silver orbs! It had been so long since he'd used one. For a moment he was overcome at the realization of how long it had been since he'd been home, but he soon shook off the dreary feeling and gone to examine the shiny liquid-metal object in his claws.

"What is it?" Evie's disinvite voice asked. Spyro had almost forgotten her presence. The three of them were gazing at the orb in wonder.

"It's just a healing orb." Spyro said, "One of those ones you can collect, and a full set gives you some resistance against serious injuries. Right? Nobody's changed them since I've been gone?"

The three gave him a blank expression.

"What?"

"This thing heals?"

"Is it like a dragonfly?"

"Is it magic?"

Spyro was aghast. "You guys don't know about these? You keep them in your inventory and they heal you... if you get, like, thirty of them, you supposedly get longer life?" In fact, this might just be what they needed to heal Marco's odd magic wounds. Like the Beast Maker's salve this was health from the earth, very natural.

Bruce shrugged. Evie said, "But we don't have inventories."

Spyro stared at her. He didn't understand what she was saying.

"Wow, they weren't kidding when they said you'd been away for ages." Shemp said, leaning against a hut. Her face was a portrait of amazement.

"Girl dragons don't have inventories." Bruce tried, using the same tone Spyro just had trying to explain to them about the shiny, whilry orbs.

Spyro couldn't even fathom this. "What? Just- what?" How did a dragon not have an inventory for their items? His was full of almost thirty thousand gems from his previous adventures.

They all shrugged. Clearly this wasn't news to them.

"How do you carry things then? Weren't you gathering jewels earlier?"

Shemp shook her head. "I picked them up for Bruce and he zapped them to his inventory."

"Oh." Spyro said, looking down at his feet. This was weird, just _weird_ to him. He had to focus on the task at hand though. No getting distracted. He looked at the shiny orb in his hand. "Okay... okay. So you're telling me you guys don't know about these silver orbs?"

His audience shook their heads obediently.

"There haven't been any laying around since you can remember?"

More head shaking. Spyro wished he'd made an adult dragon come along on this journey so he could get some more answers. Thinking back, he'd gotten almost no information on how much the worlds had changed since he'd left. Weird weather is all they thought to tell him, and all he'd thought to ask about. But it was looking like a few other things had changed as well, and he was gonna have to find out as he went.

So the silver orbs weren't around, for whatever mysterious reason. What else could he expect? He looked around at the area. Before he'd felt at home, but now the world felt alien to him. Even as he glanced around, Spyro felt he was missing something. Or some_one_.

"Hey... do you guys... where did that blue guy go?"

They looked around. Buddy was nowhere to be seen. Doing a quick relay of the last thirty minutes, Spyro realized he hadn't seen him since before Shemp found the silver orb. He bit his lip with frustration. "Shoot. Did he just wander off? He is a magic crafter, those guys get spacey sometimes."

Evie shook her head. "He's usually such a focused guy. He doesn't usually just go off by himself."

She sounded worried, and Shemp and Bruce's faces reflected her fear. They were social creatures, these new hatchlings. If they weren't usually solitary, Buddy's disappearance could mean trouble. Spyro edged around the hut and looked around, staying on all fours, body close to the ground. The others were still looking about franticly, even standing up on their hind legs to get a better view. Spyro whipped his head around.

"Shush! Don't stand up, you're making yourself a bigger target. We'll find him, just stay calm."

The others were instantly gathered around him, low to the ground and pressing close. Their eager eyes looked at him for further instructions. Spyro truly admired their skill at becoming and maintaining such a tight unit. He just wished they had more combat skills. He supposed he was just as bad when he first took on Gnasty, but now wasn't the time to dwell. They had to find Buddy and make sure he wasn't injured.

"Okay, here's the plan. We go in two groups of two. We always stay in sight of each other when possible, and in hearing range at all times. We circle this area and meet at the far end of the plateau, where the stairs start. There's only like two more huts we gotta search, so each group takes one. Then we get to the part with a lot of steps and ladders. Like we did when we started, fan out with your partner and make sure nothing can get past you. Don't stand up on two legs when you're in the open, don't make a lot of noise. Don't leave anyone alone! If you find something send out some flames. Once you see the flames go to them, no hesitating or staying behind. Got it?"

They all nodded eagerly. Shemp and Bruce were practically inseparable to begin with, so Spyro looked at Evie and gestured for her to follow him. The two groups had slipped about ten yards in the opposite direction when Spyro glanced back to check on the others' progress.

There was a flash of movement from the hut with the hole in the floor.

Spyro froze, Evie doing the same right behind him. She glanced at him, then followed his gaze to the hut.

Something just inside the window ducked down. Spyro didn't notice it had been there until it moved, but now he definitely saw something.

"There's someone in blue over in the hut!" Evie whispered excitedly.

"Come on, let's go check it out." Spyro took the lead and moved steadily, directly towards the hut. He figured they had been seen when the thing was looking out the window, so he was more concerned with cornering it. He was five feet away when the thing tore out of the window. Spyro was instantly in autopilot; a little fellow, short in stature, running as fast as it could. It was instinct now. Spyro took chase, dodging between huts and then steps and bridges. The thing went in circles to throw him off, but he kept on its tail. He was vaguely aware of Evie following behind, keeping a good pace for a Beast Maker. There were shouts that must be Shemp or Bruce from a slight distance away. Spyro ignored these distractions and plowed on after the thief, head down and horns ready for gouging.

They took a turn sharp and were met with a dead end. The thief stopped at the wall and flipped around. Familiar white eyes and a white-toothed grin sent a rage through Spyro, a desire to destroy. But he had to hold back if he wanted any answers.

"Who are you working for, thief!"

The little creature in blue just gave a jump and a laugh, waving its hands around mockingly. _Why isn't it cowering in fear_, Spyro wondered. _The little jerk._

Spyro felt the approach of another presence behind him. A gentle touch told him it was Evie. There was a pause, then Spyro heard her send up flames. Shemp and Bruce wouldn't be far away.

He yelled again. "Did you hurt Marco you little bas-"

There was a shout from behind. Before Spyro could spin around a heavy object connected with the back of his head. He was stunned with pain and went down. His vision flashed and blurred, then someone put a cloth over his face and he felt ropes sliding over his neck and legs. He tried to struggle, but another hit came from the heavy object and the world flickered out.

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End file.
